Give vegetables the green light
It’s December and service at the Plough Inn is in full swing. Predictably, we’ve got loads of big groups coming in for festive parties, so we’ve had to simplify the whole menu. But that doesn’t mean we have to compromise on flavour and quality.
One of the ways we save time is by butchering turkey breasts into individual portions, before marinating them in garlic oil and sage. We then pan roast them in butter - to order - before serving them with sage and onion stuffing, chestnut puree, roasted carrots and fondant potatoes. Finally, we finish each portion off with a really rich gravy made with onions, garlic, turkey bones and chopped pears. It’s simple, quick and, most importantly, delicious. It’s also something you can do at home.
But Christmas isn’t all about work, of course. When we opened the pub three years ago I only took six days holiday in the entire year and kept the pub open on Christmas Day. It was great in terms of business, but I was absolutely shattered. Since then I’ve made an executive decision to put my family first and to close on Christmas Day so I can spend it with my wife and three kids.
This year we’ve got a pretty big group of friends and family coming over, so we’re going to host the meal on a large table in the pub, in front of a roaring fire – one of the benefits of eating in the restaurant is leaving all the washing-up for the Boxing Day pot-washer. The rest of the family are sorting out the starters and puddings, so it’s my job to nail the main. I’ve got a four-rib of beef coming from an excellent local butcher, which I’m going to roast nice and rare and serve alongside Yorkshire puddings and all the trimmings.
Although I’m a big fan of beef, I’m adamant that meat doesn’t always have to be the main event. At this time of year, vegetables come into their own and can be really exciting, providing they’re cooked well. If boiled sprouts aren’t winning over the crowd, try shredded and sauteed in butter with chestnuts and bacon, then finished with double cream. If you’re bored with boiled carrots then try them roasted with caraway seeds. And always roast parsnips in a honey glaze. You never know, even the kids might like them.
The sweet season
I don’t think many people realise how early in the year restaurants begin to prepare for Christmas. We had our first reservations for the festive season back in June and I decided what I’d be cooking in August. At the moment, a lot of my time is dedicated to testing and tweaking these dishes until I’m 100% happy. It may sound a little unorthodox but so far I’ve settled on roe deer tartare with a scotch egg and a Kilner jar filled with brandy and armagnac custard, spiced fruit and ice-cream.
Although Christmas is weighing heavily on my mind, I’m trying not to overlook November. This time of year is all about comfort food with deep, rich flavours. While traditional Sunday roasts really come into their own right now, for me, it’s all about big, proper-British puddings. My favourites? Bread and butter pudding (made with homemade buttered brioche, raisins, apricots, brown sugar and full-cream custard); autumn fruit crumble (with local plums and apples plucked from my parents’ garden); and sticky toffee pudding.
This month also marks my daughter’s very first birthday and my wife and I are throwing a party to celebrate the big day. Obviously, my daughter is way too young to fully enjoy good food, but that’s not to say our friends and relatives should have to go without.
We’re expecting quite a few guests so I’m going to cook something really hearty and easy to throw together. I’m thinking of chilli-filled jacket potatoes (for those who like a bit of heart-warming stodge) and an orange and pomegranate salad with grilled chicken (for those who want something on the lighter side).
As for pudding, call me boring, but it has to be cake. I’m in discussions with my 13-year-old son as to what kind of cake this should be. While I’m a bit of a traditionalist and would settle on plain sponge, he is vehemently pro-chocolate. I’m no psychic, but I imagine things will go his way.
Game on: why autumn is the season to embrace eating game
I’ve never been the kind of person that mourns the loss of summer. In fact, I love this time of year. I spend my working life in a hot, cramped kitchen, so when it’s nice and sunny outside it just makes me jealous. When it’s cold, dreary and raining, however, a hot kitchen is exactly where I want to be. I think a lot of our customers also prefer autumn to summer. There’s just something about an old pub that lends itself really well to this time of year. The minute the temperature drops and an open-fire is lit, people feel drawn here.
On top of that, no season suits my cooking style more than autumn. It’s a time when I get to completely revamp the menu and introduce richer, heavier dishes with bigger, bolder flavours. I’m a big fan of things like pumpkin soup (seasoned with parmesan), chestnut and sage tortellini and creme brulee with freshly poached apples and blackberries. However, if I had to pick one October ingredient that really gets me going, it would have to be a terrine of rabbit, partridge, grouse, hare and venison.
We’re very lucky at the Plough Inn to be surrounded by some of the country’s best hunting estates, which supply us with fresh, local meat. It’s a great relationship; every week the gamekeeper turns up at our door in a wax jacket and wellies with a van full of game and we pay him in beer and Sunday roasts.
What I love about game is the diversity of flavour. If you’ve never tried it before, then you can start off with something like pheasant or partridge, both of which are mellow flavoured and user-friendly. Once you’re comfortable with them, you can move on to meats like grouse and hare, which have really bold flavours.
Game doesn’t just taste more interesting than regular meat – it’s also more ethical. Let’s not beat around the bush here: game is a bi-product of a popular national pastime, but because very few of us are willing to eat it, a huge amount is wasted. If we all embraced game more then we’d be supporting free-range, non-intensively farmed meat – and who wouldn’t want that?
